


Incandescence

by vr2312



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Affectionate Cannibalism Mention, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use Of Nen, Maybe OOC, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vr2312/pseuds/vr2312
Summary: “You look like shit.”“Happy Holidays to you too, Machi.”She kneels beside him, prying the hand away from his chest, unravelling a stab wound that would overflow with blood were it not for Hisoka’s Nen blocking the veins. Before she examines it clearly, she instinctively brushes his messed up hair off his face and places her palm against the forehead.“You’re cold. You should have told me this was serious.” Her face flinches and Hisoka could swear the woman actually seemed concerned for his well-being for a second.
Relationships: Hisoka/Machi (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Incandescence

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. After an extensive research on Nen I decided it doesn't make sense anyway and I don't care about accuracy.  
> 2\. It's Hurt/Comfort to Smut to Fluff to Angst to Hurt/Comfort I guess.  
> 3\. Yes, it's OOC. Yes, it's 100% self-indulgent.  
> 4\. Happy Holidays.

Machi rushes through a busy street, trying to shield herself from the snow and flickering lights with the hood of her coat. The obnoxious music that comes from every direction and loud advertisements sounding from the shops cause her to develop a migraine which only worsens the more time she spends outside. People step aside at the sight of her scowl and uneven step; because her shoes are too new and she did not bother to learn how to walk in them. It’s likely they assume she must be drunk but as long as she gets to her destination, she doesn’t care. 

When she finally reaches the hotel lobby, she brushes the snow off her tight coat and stomps her boots against the clear marble flooring, drawing the attention of the receptionist and the guard standing together behind a desk. Before any of them can speak up, she runs past them towards the elevator and quickly presses the buttons, preventing the guard from having a good look at her face as the door closes right as he steps from behind the desk. 

Rummaging through her pockets, she manages to find her phone but, besides one unanswered call from Hisoka, there are no new notifications. She doesn’t bother to call him back since she still can recall the directions he has given her. It takes her only a couple of minutes to find herself in front of his door and punching in the code to open it.

The inside is completely dark. She kicks the boots off of her feet, sighing with relief, and throws her uncomfortable coat over a chair. Slowly, she approaches the half-open door to the bathroom - the only light-source in the room beside the Holiday decorations from the streets creeping in through the blinds. She senses Hisoka’s Nen seeping through the entrance, carelessly spilling around her and swallowing her whole before she can even see him. It lacks the murderous intent she is so used to but the moment she notices that is the same moment she steps into the bathroom; only to be welcomed by Hisoka’s pathetic figure, sitting on the black tiles with one hand pressing the Bungee Gum against his chest and a drink in the other. 

“You look like shit.”

“Happy Holidays to you too, Machi.”

She kneels beside him, prying the hand away from his chest, unravelling a stab wound that would overflow with blood were it not for Hisoka’s Nen blocking the veins. Before she examines it clearly, she instinctively brushes his messed up hair off his face and places her palm against the forehead.

“You’re cold. You should have told me this was serious.” Her face flinches and Hisoka could swear the woman actually seemed concerned for his well-being for a second. 

“Is ‘I’m bleeding to death’ not serious enough?”

“You always say that, _you idiot_ .” He doesn’t always say _that_ but he does make it sound like it. He knows he should be less dramatic in case he may actually need Machi to save his life but he isn’t a man who believes himself capable of making mistakes.

Machi smoothly stretches out a Nen thread and attaches it to a conjured needle. She looks into Hisoka’s wound, assessing how his flesh was exactly cut. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be an injury to his organs and him bleeding out so profusely was certainly caused by his own neglect; Hisoka doesn’t care if he gets hurt, he either chooses to ignore the pain or indulges in it. 

“I need you to remove your Bungee Gum little by little.”

He follows her instructions without a word or hesitation. She’s surprised he still possesses such a strong clarity of mind in a state like this, where any normal person would likely begin to question their reality. But Hisoka is not a normal person and, despite seeing his insides, Machi often doubts he’s even human. She wonders what must a man sacrifice to achieve such resilience. Not that she would ever bother to ask him; he’d only feed her lies and tales.

“You’re a gift from heaven, Machi.”

She tightens her lips so as not to snap at him and continues to sew him up without interruption. She feels his eyes following her every move, his gaze slithers over her hands and his tongue flicks against his lips every time her fingers brush his skin. Her cheeks heat up shamelessly; she’s grateful she’s entered with a face that has been already irritated by the snow and wind so it’s a one less thing he can point out about her.

“Have you at least won?” she asks eventually, closing the last layer of his tissue.

“Have I ever lost?”

She doesn’t know. He wouldn’t tell her anyway.

Machi stands up and helps him up; his naked chest is too close to her face and as soon as she balances him against a wall, she turns away and begins to wash off his blood off her hands. “You’re still cold.”

“Care to warm me up?”

She ignores his comment and slams the door as she leaves. Hisoka can barely sense her Aura while she tries to conceal it but, much to his surprise, it continues to flow gently in the living room while he undresses and steps into the shower. 

He suspects she only chooses to stay so that he can pay her, even though she knows he never has the right amount of money on him. But Machi likes to humiliate him; maybe the ever increasing payments she demands from him are also supposed to achieve just that.

When he walks into the living room, she sits quietly on one end of the sofa, mindlessly switching through the TV channels. Her chin rests at the top of her knees and the long sleeves of her black dress are stretched out ridiculously to cover her hands. She looks at him for a second, her eyes drawn to the towel loosely wrapped around his hips and she immediately turns away her head, observing the lights shift on the wooden floor.

"Are you going somewhere, Machi, or have you dressed up just for me?" 

"Pakunoda invited me to a party." 

"Shouldn't you let her know you're busy." 

"She knows I wouldn't come anyway." 

Hisoka raises his brow but she simply pulls on her right stocking that is clearly a size too large. He notices reddish stains on the material which would probably go unseen had she not pointed them out.

"That's your excuse?" 

"Yeah." 

Machi meant to go even though she has never felt a need to; she doesn't celebrate holidays and she is content enough in her own company. She can imagine a party like that would exhaust her sooner than later and the people would quickly drive her insane. Pakunoda tried to bribe her with the idea of free food and drinks but Pakunoda has an image to uphold and Machi wouldn't want to ruin it.

She isn't sure why she finally decided to go. Boredom? Loneliness? Had Pakunoda successfully manipulated her into saying "yes"? Perhaps it's all of the above. 

After a while she can feel Hisoka's weight on the other side of the couch. He's dressed now, thankfully, and, watching his reflection in the glass coffee table, he keeps brushing his hair back, with an annoyed expression on his face. 

In her opinion, he looks better with his hair down but she bites her tongue. 

"Who would have thought we'd be spending the Holidays together." 

"We're not." 

"Ah… We don't have any gifts, do we?" he says, as if he hasn’t just heard Machi’s objection.

“Feel free to send me a holiday bonus when you decide to pay up,” she mumbles. She turns off the TV and throws the remote on the table.

“Money’s not a real gift.”

Machi looks around the room; it’s expensive and impersonal just like Hisoka. The only sign of the Holidays is a small, scarcely decorated tree by the window which has obviously been set up by the hotel staff. In comparison to the colours and noise of the streets, she finds this place preferable to stay; at least until Hisoka gets too comfortable around her.

Or, rather, until she gets too comfortable around _him_.

“You look pale,” she notes, observing his stern face as tries to rub off the dark circles from under his eyes. He knows she means he still looks sickly from the blood loss and that it’s clear his body has a hard time recovering. He tries to give her a reassuring smile but it only makes her more irritated with his careless attitude.

 _Why does it bother you_ , he wishes to ask, yet he already knows the answer would fall somewhere in between “it doesn’t” and a complete silence.

Slowly, she stretches out her legs and lifts herself off his couch. She peeks into the mini-fridge only to shut it when she realises there’s nothing inside except for alcohol that she has never bothered to try and overpriced water in fancy glass bottles. Lazily, she looks through a menu left by the rotary phone and Hisoka almost suggests she should order a dinner for them but she spins around to face him, biting on the inside of her lip and playfully taping her fingers against the end table.

“If you were to buy something for me... That would count as a gift, yes?”

“Yes.” He’s surprised she even entertains the idea. He’s used to her reluctance to accept his gifts and, whenever she does, he's sure she doesn't bother to keep them. So he's more than happy to try this arrangement if it means that Machi will be satisfied with it. 

"What about _my_ gift?" he says; his low tone and the subtle implication cause a mild shiver to run down her back but she hides it well with her body obscured by the dark and an unfamiliar expression. 

"What," she swallows. "What would you like?"

"Oh… You know, _Machi_." Her name rolls off his tongue with sickening sweetness, caressed by his lips. The corners of his mouth rise slightly and his golden eyes are indistinguishable from the shadow of his lashes. 

She doesn't outright reject him but he knows it means little. Machi prefers to act like she doesn’t understand subtext when it suits her; she won’t tell him “no” unless he specifically asks for something. He doesn’t know if she chooses to do so to annoy him or if she’s just playing coy until it’s time for her to decide to take their game seriously or leave.

And she always leaves. 

“There’s something about the Bungee Gum that I wanted to try out.”

When she crosses her arms and her blue eyes flicker as they shift to meet his, he knows he’s piqued her interest. He can be such an impatient man when it comes to Machi and he’s aware it ruined his chances more than it has ever helped him. Perhaps it’s the drowsiness that allows him to take his time tonight and the intense need for her presence so he can fill the hollowness of his room with something soft and warm.

Machi can sense his Aura pulsate around her - it is not vicious yet still so feral than it should have been after a fight. It comes close enough to grasp her, only to pull back the last second like it expects her to follow it akin to a nosy cat. What finally entices her, however, is how Hisoka’s image clashes with his Aura; he lounges on the couch, stretching out his limbs and taking deep, rhythmical breaths. He appears to possess an ethereal glow while the white and blue Holiday lights illuminate his skin and his red wavy hair falls gently by his cheeks. His expression is too tender, too non-threatening, Machi thinks. If he chooses to attack her anytime soon, she isn’t confident enough she would see it coming.

Hisoka pats the empty spot next to him and after a minute of silence, she accepts and sits down by his side but keeps a small distance between them. She still dithers, perhaps even more so than before as she senses the coldness of his body.

“I would never hurt you, Machi.”

She’s not sure if she believes him but she doesn’t fear him. She’s more concerned for her own willingness to indulge him in his absurd cravings.

Hisoka bends over and picks up her leg just to put it at the top of his lap. His left hand caresses her calf while the other wraps around her ankle. The man’s slender fingers tease her for a second and she opens her mouth to ask if she should take off her stockings (frustrated with how little the sheer material actually allows her to feel) but by then Hisoka attaches his Bungee Gum to her, forming it into a round and long shape that steadily begins to climb up her leg.

“Are you comfortable,” he asks and she barely nods, fixated on his Nen that now slithers over her knee and under her thigh. The only thing she can sense besides Hisoka’s hands is a strange force pressing into her leg; yet the Bungee Gum has neither texture nor weight and it might as well be invisible to her. 

“What are you planning?"

"Plenty of things, depending on whether you let me or not." Once he finishes the sentence, his Nen slips further under her dress and stops just by the edge of her panties, prodding into her inner thigh in a lazy, circular motion. 

"No hands, only Bungee Gum, " she whispers and he nods, repeating what she has just said. 

Machi leans back on the couch, supporting herself with her elbows. She throws her right leg over his shoulder and puts the left one in its previous place. Her black dress slides up in the process, exposing her white panties to Hisoka. His half-erect member brushes against her leg and she stills, growing red and warm. All of her anxieties are flushed down her body, forming a heavy weight inside her abdomen. 

Machi presses her lips harder and furrows her eyebrows, trying to keep a serious face that would hide her arousal - as if that would change how Hisoka views her in her current position. She realises that, in a way, she’s lost the moment she has accepted his invitation; every time she has spent pretending Hisoka doesn’t affect her now seems like a waste. 

But, just like Hisoka, she likes to win. She can still try and act selfish too, like she can control how much she uses him for her own satisfaction, not because she _may_ feel something.

Machi raises her hand for a second, just to push the material of her panties to a side. She supposes she could have done it a bit more ceremoniously - it’s the first time she’s exposing herself to him and, hopefully, the last. She expects him to be upset at her awkward and hasty movements; she can only guess how badly he has idealised her in his head.

What she does not expect is for him to suddenly reach out to her, just to stop midway, remembering the promise he’s made to her. He settles his hand back on her calf, his fingers digging deeper into her skin and he drags his gaze slowly from her vulva to her burning face.

“Machi… You’re so cute. You’re so cute _I’d love to eat you_.”

“Shut up, idiot,” she murmurs and, were it not for his strong grip, she would have probably kicked him in the face.

He chuckles and turns his head to the side, not tearing his eyes away from her, and places a short, tender kiss on her ankle.

She realises she should have taken off her stockings.

His Bungee Gum slips between her outer lips to access the clitoris; the Nen covers her nub instantly and clenches around it, making Machi inhale sharply at the sensation. It begins to loosen after a while only to repeat the motion several times until her body starts to shiver. Her mouth opens, releasing a quiet moan when the Bungee Gum pulls on her clitoris, as if to mimic a sucking motion. It convinces her that Hisoka is not accustomed to using his Nen in such a manner - he has surely tested it a couple of times to see if manipulating it in such a way would even be possible. But had he tried it out on himself or someone else?

Does she even want to know?

“I hate you,” she gasps and closes her eyes to avoid seeing his euphoric stare. 

Hisoka laughs at the state of her: at how she still tries to defy him while her hips convulse from the pleasure, at her cheeks growing hotter from the frustration and arousal, at her evident desire exposed by the glistening muscles between her legs. Each next kiss he places above her ankle is longer than the other. He reaches as close to the welt of her right stocking as he can and hurriedly removes the garment, his nails ripping the material in the process.

Hisoka drags his tongue across her skin, cleaning off her sweat and his dried blood that has seeped through the stocking while they had sat in the bathroom. “Mm, Machi, you’re so _tasty_.”

“Are you actually going to try and eat me, you freak?”

Hisoka sinks his teeth into her skin - the force of his bite does not pierce it but it is enough to leave a mark, at least for tonight. He doesn’t worry about making her bruise, her Aura can easily repair the tissue without her intervention.

“I might…,” he sighs. “But, right now, I need to see it better, Machi.”

“See _what_?”

“Your pussy.”

“Oh...” Machi looks to the side, too late for the man not to notice her timid blush.

“I’m sorry, was I too direct?” he asks, sliding closer so that he can witness every little tremble of her body. “Lie down, Machi.” 

She does so, placing her head on a pillow so she can still see him and his Nen. She grabs the hem of her panties, pushing it down until Hisoka’s hands join her mid her thighs. Before he helps Machi take off her underwear, his fingers brush affectionately against hers and he lowers his head, looking into her glossy eyes. He proceeds to leave kisses on her knuckles much to her displeasure, as they turn out to be too delicate for the sensation to last for long.

She opens her mouth and an unspoken request makes Hisoka halt as he pulls away. He waits a minute for her to speak up but, whether out of cowardice or pride, she closes it and rests her hands comfortably on her belly. He doubts he will ever find out what it is that she wanted.

The Bungee Gum extends in its length, slithering down towards her vagina but never going in. It rubs up and down her labia, prodding at her flesh in different spots while Hisoka observes her face for any changes. He makes a mental note of the way she reacts; _as if she would ever let him near her again_. 

“There,” she whimpers, her eyes half-closed and mouth formed into a small circle. Her hips jerk upwards and Hisoka’s eyes follow the movement, noticing that Bungee Gum has stopped just above the entrance. Curious, he makes his Nen stimulate the area and soon Machi rewards him with the sweetest sound he’s ever heard her make.

“Hisoka-ah!”

She looks beautiful, he thinks; overwhelmed by bliss, body flushed and warm, wet and lustre. He would like to tell her, he _needs_ her to know, the effect she has on him - but he doesn’t think that such simple words could give her justice, he doesn’t think he would know how to describe her even if he were a poet.

And so he shuts his mouth because she embarrasses him with how easy it is for her to drive him mad, even when she doesn’t try. 

“Machi,” he calls her but she doesn’t respond, too busy trying to catch a breath and to take control of her quivering legs. He licks his lips glancing at her throbbing muscles and his Nen hovering over her vulva, ready to sink deep into her and break her from the inside. “Machi,” he repeats himself, like a bothersome pet pressing his cheek against her leg and humming at the smoothness of her skin.

“Machi-”

“You’re colder,” she says, tired and serious. Her brows from into her usual frown but at least any sign she may detest him is gone for now. Quickly, she sits up and he has no choice but to withdraw his Bungee Gum completely. He watches her look for her panties and then put them on as if they were about to be caught for doing something illegal (though he wouldn't be surprised if internal relationships are forbidden among the Spiders).

He stands up, wanting to follow her as she heads towards the bed but the moment he straightens his back, the room begins to spin and taking a single step makes him lose his balance completely. He’s fully prepared to hit the floor head first, except he doesn’t; Machi catches him just in time and, though her legs are still weak, she manages to keep them from toppling over. 

“Machi?”

“You _fucking idiot_.”

“Sorry…”

Effortlessly, she drags him towards the bed like they’ve done this plenty of times before, like he doesn’t weigh twice as much as her and his body isn’t more useless than if he would have been drunk. She throws him onto the mattress, letting out a frustrated sigh when she realises that she has to pull the covers from underneath him.

“I shouldn’t have let you use your Nen-”

“Machi…”

“ _I’m so stupid_ ,” she mumbles, walking over to a wardrobe in search for anything that would keep Hisoka warm for the night.

*

Machi wakes up under a heavy blanket that she is sure she has given to Hisoka last night. She jumps from the couch as soon as she remembers the man and looks over her shoulder to check on him but, besides messy covers, she finds no sign of him on the other side of the room.

She grabs his phone off the table and checks the time; it’s only 8 a.m. and neither of them would ever bother to wake up this early unless they were on a job. She tries to recall if he ever carried his phone around while they were working together but the remainder of yesterday’s migraine makes it impossible for her. 

Just as she decides to put on her boots and search for him, the door opens and Hisoka walks in, with a paper bag and two coffees in a tray. They stand still, facing each other without a word or a sign of acknowledgement - like he didn’t expect her to see her here and like she didn’t expect him to come back. 

Hisoka makes the first move, placing the bag and the drinks on the table, slowly, as if any sudden motion would scare the woman off. “Are you hungry?” His voice is quiet but he sounds mindful rather than frail; she’s only just woken up, not used to his presence or this room fully lit by the morning sun. 

Hisoka reaches into the bag and hands her two small packages. She can tell one of them is a pair of warm thighs; which does surprise her that the man would prioritise her comfort over aesthetic. The other is a mystery, with nothing but a generic “Happy Holidays” printed in a silver font on the lid.

“Machi-”

“I’ll go change” she cuts in, swiftly passing by him and locking herself in the bathroom.

It’s clean, is the first thing on her mind as she looks down at the floor, expecting a pool of blood. She cannot tell if he’s cleaned it last night or this morning or, worse yet, they have been visited by the hotel staff at some point. She supposes she should be happy; it’s one less thing to worry about but her eyes begin to deceive her, making Hisoka appear against the wall when he shouldn’t be there. 

Machi turns her back to him, focusing on the Hisoka outside, trying to sense his Nen to convince herself he is still where she left him. He responds, somewhat; his Aura strengthens when she desperately reaches out to him. It becomes almost tangible while she undresses, as if he tries to let her know he is waiting for her. It would have been reassuring had she had enough time to make sense of the situation they’ve found themselves in.

She doesn’t feel like waiting for the water to heat up so she takes a lukewarm shower, though it may not be the best idea if she plans on going out later. She lowers her head and brushes the hair to the front, keeping it from getting wet. While she’s forced to look down, she notices a trail of pink marks running up to the knee on the side of her right leg. Small bruises - some slightly bigger and darker than the other, but none of them hurt. Despite the water’s temperature, a warm shiver runs down her body until it piles up under her abdomen, creating a strong pressure between her-

“Fuck.” Machi punches the tap, turning the water off, and freezes in place, trembling from the chilly air that creeps in through the gap in the bathroom door. Nervously, she places her hand on the belly and closes her eyes. She inhales deeply and clenches her teeth before even moving a finger, trying to muffle any sound she could potentially make. Her hand slides down easily until she feels the bumps of her regrowing hair. Carefully, like she could fall apart at any moment, she slides two fingers between her lips and-

“Everything’s alright?” Hisoka asks, knocking at the door and she instantly tears her hand away from her womanhood.

“Leave me alone!” 

Machi hears him walk away and the muffled sound of the couch when he sits down. She knows she shouldn’t have snapped at him; it will only make him wonder about the extent of her distress. A distress caused by the fact that she's still horny yet in denial of what had occurred only hours ago.

She steps out of the shower and goes over to the unopened box, spilling water all over the floor. She raises the lid and takes out a piece of gray paper covering the contents, crumpling it and throwing to the side. 

White lingerie.

She doubts Hisoka has bought it just now, when most clothing stores are not open this early in the morning. She also doubts he would forget how she has rejected every other _intimate_ gift he has ever gotten her only to get her another set of expensive underwear she doesn’t need. It’s deliberate, she figures, looking over her shoulder at her panties,remembering the discomfort of having to put them back on right after messing around with Hisoka.

She’s not angry that he probably got it “in case” she finally gave in to his overt coquetry; she’s angry it has worked. That it _is_ working. That she wants to step out naked and make him use his Bungee Gum again before the severe lack of climax from last night drives her insane.

It doesn’t help that once she enters the living room, he turns his knowing gaze towards her, noticing the empty box of lingerie she’s left behind on the bathroom counter-top. She might as well not be wearing a dress as he can exactly tell what she looks like underneath it.

She doesn’t come close to him. Instead, she settles on a chair where she can’t be tempted to slide closer to him.

“You’ve never mentioned what you want, Machi,” he says after they’ve been staring at each other, cold, shivering, without a blink of an eye.

She presses her lips tighter and her knees together. Her fingers wrap around the paper coffee cup, searching for warmth. “There’s an antique store that I saw. I don’t know if… we can go visit.” Her words come out as a mumble that gets distorted as she becomes more timid with each word. She knows her insecurity is pointless - he has already agreed to give her whatever she would want and if he’s busy, she would only need him to transfer the money for an object of her choice. 

Machi isn’t used to asking for things, favours, a _company_. 

“Of course we can,” he answers. His voice is too soothing; it makes her want to taste its delicacy and rip his tongue out all at once. 

*

Everything around them is white - the misty streets, the tall buildings, the overcast sky. The only people walking past them are a few tourists either searching for a hotel or going towards the train station. There’s little to no traffic and most of the shops are still closed, though every entrance remains illuminated by neon lights and Holiday decorations. It’s tranquil, silent, as if the time has stopped for them.

Hisoka looks at Machi struggling to climb down the stairs on their way out of the hotel lobby. She seems hopeless, trying to keep her balance like a child first learning how to walk. The man sighs and comes up to her, extending his arm at which she reacts with an upset glance and deep breath that forms a cloud between them.

“You’re going to break your leg,” he says. He has no idea how she has managed to reach his room in one piece and no injuries, especially with the fast moving crowds that always appear in the evening. 

Machi wraps her arm around his, her expression stuck in a grimace. She tries to cover the top of her head with the hood but it falls back with every gust of wind; and so she is forced to give up eventually. She pulls up her scarf instead, just enough to cover at least part of her face and ears.

“How far is it?”

“Twenty minutes or so…” she answers. “But there were more people here last time.”

“You also knew how to walk,” he chuckles and she slides her hand down his arm, slipping it under his sleeve to dig her nails into his skin.

“You’re hurting me, Machi. Are you going to fix this later?”

“Fixing you is a waste of time.”

She focuses on the buildings they walk by, recreating the map of the city inside her head and trying to figure out if there may be a shortcut they could take. She doesn’t bother making a small talk with Hisoka and she’s glad that, for once, he doesn’t feel like speaking up either. She’s content with how things have turned out - he will pay for her gift, she will get on a random train to disappear and then she will ignore his existence for the remainder of her life.

Hisoka stops abruptly right after Machi, whose eyes widen at the sight of a tunnel set up on the other side of the road. Hisoka has seen it many times before, he’s convinced it’s something the city sets up every year for Holidays as a tourist attraction; except he’s never been able to see properly, as the installation becomes practically invisible with the crowds trying to cram into it.

Today, besides himself and Machi, there’s only one other couple that soon disappears as they follow the curve of the tunnel. The walls are woven from conifer branches, though he cannot tell if they are real or not. The top is rounded, with many colourful lights intertwined with the greenery and transparent ornaments that are akin to unbreakable soap bubbles swaying in the air.

Just as he’s about to continue walking towards the antique store, Machi pulls on his arm instead, dragging him across the street towards the tunnel.

“Machi-”

“It’s a shortcut.”

For some reason he doesn’t believe that. 

He presumes the tunnel is _pretty_. The roof looks more like a surreal night sky that something man made and maybe if he were five years old he would find it impressive. The gaps in the structure are big enough to allow some snow to fall in - it’s how he comes to realise that the predicted blizzard might come sooner than he’s expected, as more flakes slip inside the deeper they go in. 

He turns to Machi who is standing still, with her face up and eyes wide open. The snow that touches her melts quickly and the only thing that’s left of it are tiny tears on her blushing cheeks. They reflect the lights around them, their shimmer more intense than glitter, as if they were something otherworldly and alive. 

Whether to purposefully get his attention or by some inexplicable impulse, she pulls on his arm and he feels urged to step closer. Close enough so that her hot breath becomes his and he can feel the thin layer of her Aura melting into his. Her eyes shift towards him when he comes into her vision; there’s something familiar in them, old, forgotten. Something he’s not really used to that makes his skin crawl and his stomach tighten. Hisoka doesn’t notice when he ends up pressing into her and she lets him. He feels every rise and fall of her chest, he sees every flicker of light in her eyes, he senses every disturbance in her Aura.

“What are you doing?” Machi whispers, but she lacks the judgemental tone that she puts on for him. 

What _is_ he doing? That’s a good question, one that he should’ve asked himself years ago when he first saw her. For what purpose has he allowed this relationship to form?

Hisoka lowers his head, blocking out the sight of the tunnel completely when their noses touch. Her eyes jump around his face, taking in every detail, and he imagines he must look the same to her.

“Spend the Holidays with me.” And just like that, he destroys everything.

Her eyebrows furrow and lips form into a thin line. Without a word she backs away, letting go of his hand and turning towards the same direction they came from. Hurriedly, she leaves the tunnel, not looking back to check if he’s following her because she can feel his sharp Aura jerk around furiously.

They reach the antique store as strangers. Machi does stop inside, waiting for Hisoka to join her but she doesn’t look nearly as excited as she had been when leaving his hotel room. He’s here just to pay, he knows; he has always served only one purpose to Machi.

“A sewing machine? Do you have any use for it?” he asks to which she answers with a simple head shake until Hisoka stares at her long enough to force her to speak up.

“I know it’s useless. That’s why I’m not the one buying it.”

With the same care she handles her threads, she touches the polished wood and drags her fingers across it, studying crevices left behind by the machine's previous owners. Her eyes memorise the curves and patterns engraved into the iron for no other reason than to look pretty.

“Is it that strange for me to want something simple for once?”

No. He occasionally finds himself wanting the simple things too. The only difference between them is that what he craves is immaterial and out of his reach.

“Don’t you have something you keep around just to feel better?” Machi turns to him, this time using her merciless glare to make _him_ answer.

“You.”

He bites his tongue too late. He still draws blood but it’s not enough. 

He’s ready to step away and go back to the counter to write out the check, but Machi grabs him by his coat.

Despite the big space, the store is closer to being claustrophobic: filled with clutter, windows obscured with thick curtains and dark last century wallpaper. The dust floats between the displays like a heavy fog, carrying the intense smell of wood and paint. The only sound echoing through the narrow corridors of furniture are multiple clocks ticking from the other end of the store.

There is no way for anyone to see them, so maybe that’s why Machi feels bold enough to shift closer to Hisoka. His heart hammers against his ribs so violently it makes her palm vibrate as she presses it into his chest. She can’t explain why finding out he has a working heart is reassuring - she’s not foolish enough to think of it any more as a muscle. It must be the fact that it responds to her so eagerly, even if it stores nothing but cells.

“Hisoka. I’ll stay.”


End file.
